


Miscellanies

by karuvapatta



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cats, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Bananas, Brotherly Love, Cat Loki, Fluff, Fuck Or Die, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mostly Gen, One Shot Collection, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Pre-Thor (2011), Rough Sex, Sailing, Sibling Incest, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-03-22 23:19:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3747283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karuvapatta/pseuds/karuvapatta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a repost of my tumblr ficlets, which are largely unrelated. Tags do not apply to every chapter.</p><p>Featuring: Sick Loki, Scheming Loki, Surprisingly Nice Loki, Huggable Loki, Cat Loki, Evil Jealous Loki.<br/>Also featuring: Thor who has a nice day, Thor who had a lot of really bad days, Cat Thor, Snuggly Thor, Blissfully Unaware Thor and, above all else, Thor Who Is Too Good For Loki (But Loves Him Nonetheless).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Sickness And In Health (???)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki gets the flu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [radiatorfromspace](http://radiatorfromspace.tumblr.com/), who wanted some sick Loki and nurturing Thor.

The sudden weakness is alarming but not unexpected. He has, after all, exerted himself rather badly during the fight against Thanos. His magic is all but spent and, for the first time in centuries, Loki struggles to grasp for his power.

Then comes the headache. Loki paces the room, having drawn all the curtains nice and tight, and pinches the bridge of his nose. The pressure builds up somewhere behind his eyes, and gets worse and worse. But soon he has to sit down, because his muscles are weakened and tremors run down his body.

And then there is the ache in his throat, and clear fluid leaking out of his nostrils, and the violent bursts of coughing. Loki wheezes, wipes the clammy sweat from his forehead and goes straight for the Avengers Tower.

“What have you done to me,” he demands of Tony Stark, who is the closest, and then collapses on the floor into a coughing fit.

“Er,” Stark says. “Guys? Bruce, come on, this really isn’t my area of expertise—oh stop it, where the hell is Thor? We could really use Thor right about now. Steve, help me move Thunder Junior somewhere he won’t vomit all over my floor—well fuck  _me_ , you’re heavy—”

Loki scowls, and mumbles, “Thor. Yes,” and tries to punch Steve Rogers for daring to lay hands on him. The punch lands about a meter to the left of Rogers’ head; Loki loses his balance.

“Oh for the love of—Thor! Thor, we have an emergency!”

“My friends?” oh, the familiar voice is the only thing getting through the fog inside Loki’s head. “What is amiss?”

“You tell me,” Rogers says.

Thor’s hands lies heavy and comforting on Loki’s shoulder, the other palm feeling for his forehead.

“Brother, you’re burning up!”

“Yes, how humorous,” Loki spits.

Thor’s bright blue eyes widen with genuine concern. “Are you well?” he asks.

Loki very nearly bristles. “ _Yes_ , Thor, I am well. I am sweaty, and tired, and all my muscles hurt, and my throat is completely sore,  _that’s how well I am_.” He coughs loudly, for good measure.

“If what he has is contagious, I am shooting him right now,” comes Barton’s voice, from somewhere above.

“You can’t shoot him while he’s sick and defenseless,” Rogers says, stepping away while Thor helps Loki stand up and lean against the warm, solid weight of his body.

“Can you think of a better time?” Barton asks flatly, and Loki laughs.

“I like you,” he says in Barton’s general direction, although his aim might be slightly off. He lets Thor steer him away, down the corridor and into an elevator. They are followed by the distinct sounds of Stark and Banner arguing, Rogers staying behind to placate Barton.

The spacious chambers must be Thor’s. Most of the massive glass windows remain open, to let in the breeze and the ceaseless noises of the city. Loki shivers, pressing closer to Thor. He remembers this habit of his brother’s very well – Thor would refuse to sleep in locked rooms, claiming they suffocate him. In truth, Loki prefers it this way, too, fooling himself into thinking that he can hear his brother’s even breathing over the sound of the wind.

“When did this start?” Banner asks, while Thor deposits Loki on his bed.

“Yesterday,” Loki says. He attempts to wipe his nose with a thin paper handkerchief and then, frustrated, crumples it in his fist and glares at the thing until it erupts with bright green flame and burns down to ash. “This is disgusting,” he complains, already reaching out for another.

“This is why you should vaccinate, kids,” Stark says cheerfully.

“Do you Asgardians even get sick?” Banner asks. Loki is too tired to even protest his heritage.

“Ordinarily, no,” Thor answers, frowning. “Unless we are significantly weakened. The magic Loki worked on Thanos might have had that effect on him.”

“Yes, yes,” Loki says. “I don’t have time for this mortal nonsense. Get me some medications and I will be on my way.”

“I don’t think—” Banner begins. He removes his glasses and cleans them with an edge of his shirt, in obvious unease. “If you could remove your shirt so that I could listen to your lungs—”

“No,” Loki says icily.

“Have it your way,” Banner says, relaxing. “Anyway, it’s flu season. You should stay in bed and drink a lot of fluids. Let me know if you get worse. Or if there’s no improvement after three days—”

“ _Three days_?” Loki repeats in blank horror. “Have you gone mad? This is going to last three  _days_?”

He’s aware of Thor rubbing comforting circles into the skin of his back. Pleasant, even as Loki succumbs to another coughing fit that leaves him light-headed.

“Rest will do you good, brother,” Thor says. “When was the last time you slept? Or ate, for that matter?”

“This is none of your business,” Loki says haughtily, because in truth he cannot actually remember.

Thor just sighs.

***

Thor’s bed is warm and it offers more comfort than Loki enjoyed since his fall from Asgard. He buries himself under all the covers and blankets within his reach, only his head peeking out.

“What is it?” he asks suspiciously, eyeing the steaming mug Thor has brought with him.

“Tea with lemon and honey,” Thor says. “I was assured it would make you feel better.”

“Preposterous,” Loki says. He sits up, trying not to flinch when Thor adjusts pillows behind his back to support him. “I have no need of your coddling, brother.”

“So you say,” Thor indulges him. The large mug looks small and fragile in his massive hands. Loki would protest such treatment but he is not sure if he wouldn’t end up spilling the contents on the covers instead.

He can’t remember the last time he has been this humiliated. Thor lifts the mug to his mouth and tilts it slightly, the liquid therein pleasantly hot and soothing on Loki’s chapped lips. Loki grits his teeth and drinks, because his throat is parched and even speaking feels painful.

And, damn them all, it does feel wonderful. The honey is like balm to his throat, sweet and relaxing, and the warmth of it creeps into every aching muscle of his body.

Thor gives him a fond little smile. “Better?” he asks.

“Bring me another,” Loki says, grudgingly.

It is achingly familiar, to bask in Thor’s attention like this. Thor brings him drink and then hot broth, feeding it to Loki with a spoon as if he were a _babe_ , incapable of feeding itself. He tries to protest, but Thor shushes him, watching Loki suffer with obvious enjoyment.

“What am I supposed to do, for three days?” Loki asks, already tired. Thor sits down beside him and lays his heavy hand on Loki’s forehead.

“Rest,” he says. There is gentleness in his voice, and Loki has almost forgotten the sound of it. Thor would care for him when he was sick during the days of their youth, as he would for Thor. Back then, the illusory bond of their supposed brotherhood was still holding strong.

He turns his back, coughing. The covers slip from his shoulder and Thor fixes them without a word.

Memories flood him. Once, when Loki broke his leg, he would make Thor sit at his bedside and read for hours, until his throat went sore. Then Thor was too tired to go back to his chambers so he simply lay down next to Loki, shoving him aside. Loki fell asleep with his brother’s arms tight and secure around him.

Well, this childish intimacy is long forgotten now. But he does spot a book on Thor’s bedside, with neat script on the cover - «Преступле́ние и наказа́ние» Фёдор Миха́йлович Достое́вский.

“Lady Natasha gave it to me,” Thor says, noticing Loki’s questioning gaze. “Apparently it’s her favorite. She was thrilled to discover I can understand her native language.”

“Really,” Loki says. Thor rubs his shoulder, spreading warmth down to Loki’s very core. It’s pleasing, and so Loki leans into his touch, the mortal ailment having apparently robbed him of all sense of pride. “Read to me?”

He can hear the huff of breath – Thor, smiling.

“As you wish, brother,” he says.

Loki doesn’t protest when Thor sits down next to him. Certainly ought to. Well, he most definitely  _shouldn’t_ be pillowing his head in Thor’s lap, right over his muscled thighs. Unquestionably, Thor’s hand stroking his hair should not be making him purr like an overgrown cat.

“On an exceptionally hot evening early in July—” Thor begins, his voice pitched low, unused to storytelling but willing to humor Loki.

Loki’s eyelids drop, suddenly heavy. He gives himself in to the comfort of Thor’s presence, the ache in his muscles temporarily forgotten.

***

In a way, this is the longest three days of Loki’s life. It takes him a long time to figure out that it’s because he doesn’t want them to end.


	2. Pointless Prequel Porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So. This is a direct prequel to the first Thor movie, only with more porn. Warnings: Loki.

“Why would you doubt yourself, brother?” Loki asked. Thor was in that mood again, gazing forlornly upon the Realm that would soon be his. “The crown is your birthright and your due. This uncertainty doesn’t suit you.”

Thor sighed. “So you say. But I’m not the man Father is – I am not wise—”

“Wisdom comes from age, and experience,” Loki said. They were in the sitting room of Thor’s chambers, Thor brooding next to the window. “Give it time. And besides, in these uncertain times, is it really the sole attribute of a king?”

Thor turned with arched eyebrows. “What are you saying?”

“Surely you have noticed,” Loki said smoothly. “Asgard has grown lax in the times of peace. Should war come—well.” He smiled at Thor. “You may not be the wisest of men,” he said, noting the way Thor glared at him. “But there could be none braver.”

Thor preened slightly at the praise.

“You are right,” he said.

So Loki was.

The evening stretched out before them, long and pleasant. Thor got deeper and deeper into his cups while Loki recounted every tale of Asgard’s triumph on the battlefield that he could recall, and some he had made up. Thor laughed at his more outlandish ideas.

And the war with Jotunheim. Loki worked his way up carefully to this one, painting a glorious picture of the Allfather’s triumph. Not surprising, given the base nature of the primitive beasts that were his enemy.

After his brief but fruitful foray into Jotunheim, Loki was no longer surprised that Laufey was willing to fight a war to abandon it. Even Midgard seemed more appealing than that desolate patch of frozen rocks.

Much, much later, Loki walked over to the window to feel the cool breeze on his face. They had drunk a fair amount of mead between them, and he was feeling light-headed from it.

“You will have the Realm,” he said, with his back to Thor so that his brother wouldn’t read the wistfulness in his gaze. “Everything that you desire.”

“You know what it is I desire,” Thor said.

It was the low rumble of his voice that spoke somewhere directly to the dark corners of Loki’s mind. The sensation slid down his spine, viscous like honey, and made him shiver.

“Then take it,” Loki said, with a faint smile.

Thor was upon him a heartbeat later, his hands wrapping possessively around Loki’s body. His warm breath tickled the nape of Loki’s neck. Loki melted into that embrace, all the air knocked out of his lungs, even as he fought for some semblance of control.

“You are to be king of Asgard,” Loki spoke, shivering. Thor had no patience when he was like this, sneaking touches beneath Loki’s garments, pressing the flat of his palm to Loki’s stomach. “Who am I to stop you from getting what you want?”

 _Nobody_ , Loki thought. He was glad Thor couldn’t read the bitterness on his face, busy as he was with mouthing at Loki’s neck.

Under different circumstances he would make a show of his contrary nature, teasing Thor to the verge of anger and sometimes beyond that. But tonight was not about that; no, tonight was about submission. And there was pleasure in this, too.

Oh, yes. Thor was pressed firmly to his back, maneuvering Loki however he pleased. That was simultaneously degrading and thrilling, to be held like that, helpless under the onslaught of Thor’s touch and kisses. Loki threw back his head, resting it on Thor’s muscular shoulder, breathing harshly through his mouth. It seemed like there was no inch of his skin that wouldn’t be set alight by Thor’s hands. His heartbeat was strangely alien to his own ears, as if it, too, wanted to give in entirely to Thor’s wishes.

“Brother,” he murmured, soft and meek, when Thor’s hand slid down his trousers. It was a sure way of knocking Thor off-balance, even if just for a moment.

 _Good,_ Loki thought, viciously. Behind him Thor stirred, and exhaled, fingers tightening around Loki’s hips in something akin to an apology.  _Let him remember the wrongness of his wishes. Let him realize he’s too far gone to stop._

He moved his hips, slightly, rubbing them against Thor’s erection. Thor’s full body shiver only brought them closer together, his body crowding Loki in the most delicious ways.

“Loki,” Thor said in quiet desperation. It was good, so good to hear it – Loki turned slightly to catch his gaze, darkened with desire and fixated on  _him_.

Oh. Oh,  _yes_. Thor was never more beautiful than when he was looking directly at Loki. As if nothing else mattered. As if there was no-one else in his universe, just like there was no-one else in Loki’s. No, it was easy to believe there was just the two of them, together, helpless and in love.

But this happiness was an illusion. It would end the moment their desires were sated. And back they would go, the Crown Prince and the shadow, back, all the way back to their own respective paths and their own respective destinies.

One road led up, to the throne and the light and the blazing glory. Another winded and twisted, to the dead ends and sharp drops—

 _But not yet,_  Loki promised himself. Thor kissed him, deep and demanding, forgetting the moment of weakness and doubt in the face of impending victory. Because victories always came so easy to him, as easy as Loki did,  _but not this one_. No.

Let Thor stumble. Let him get knocked down a peg. Let everyone see his failures.

Because Loki couldn’t catch up, let Thor fall back to match him. Until they would be together again, hand-in-hand, and better for it.

 _Love_ , Loki thought. He was doing this out of love. Thor would surely see that. The lesson would be painful, but all lessons are.

He hissed, sharply, when Thor’s hand curled around his cock. Thor found his lips again, their breaths mingling. It was embarrassing, how quickly Thor could coax arousal out of Loki’s body; how quickly all other sensations ceased to be, except for Thor’s hands upon him. He was long gone before they even began, weakened by drink and the sight of his brother, so grand and beautiful, and— _mine. All mine—_

Thor took him afterwards, kissed him sweetly and fucked him on the furs before the fireplace, pressing so deep into Loki’s body it was a wonder they didn’t become one. And Loki cherished that, every moment, heart swelling with happiness.

He would have his moment of triumph. And he would have this. He would always have this.


	3. Thor's Nice Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "Thor has a really nice day and then Loki sucks his dick".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anon on [my tumblr](http://karuvapatta.tumblr.com/). Also: best prompt ever.

“Enjoying yourself, brother?”

Thor cracked one eye open. “That depends,” he said. “On why are you here.”

“Why, to ruin your day,” Loki said sweetly.

He looked strange in his Midgardian outfit. Stranger still because it was the height of summer and the air was stuffy and hot; the elegant black suit had to be uncomfortable. Loki must have thought so as well because he climbed the hill and sat down next to Thor in the shade of a tree.

“Surprise me, then,” Thor said, relaxing. His stay on Midgard had been peaceful recently; Jane and Erik brought him here for vacation and he very much enjoyed their hospitality. He took the time to teach Jane basics of sailing. And even though he found mortal boats fragile and oddly-shaped, his blood was still thrumming with the pleasure the sport brought him. In his youth he thought there could be nothing greater than this: to cast himself at the mercy of the elements, feel the wind in his sails and the cold spray of water on his face, enjoy the speed and the exhilarating sense of freedom and peace. Before Mjolnir chose him, it was the nearest he could get to actually flying.

Now the boats were rocking on the surface of the water, filling the air with the sound of halyards and shackles beating against the masts. Humans have vacated the small harbour, seeking shelter from the oncoming thunderstorm. Thor stayed.

“Ah yes, just look at you,” Loki sneered. “The future king of Asgard, lazing around in the sun. How very  _fortunate_ nothing in the Nine Realms requires your precious attention, yes?”

Thor cracked open the other eye. Loki sat primly, his suit immaculately pressed, lecturing Thor in his snottiest voice.

“I do not envy you the weight of the crown, brother,” Loki said. “What a terrible burden! It would be a shame if it prevented you from enjoying the company of your dear friends on such a fine day. I have watched you – sports and merriment, food and drink… It is true what they say: uneasy lies the head—mhmppf—”

Thor seized the front of his shirt and hauled him forward, capturing Loki’s damned mouth into a kiss. Loki fought him, but shortly and with little effort.

All in all, Loki was being surprisingly cooperative. That is to say, he ceased all pretence of protest when Thor tangled his hand in silky black hair and gave him a slow, thorough kiss. Loki came up breathless and flushed, licking his lips with a mischievous glint in his bright eyes.

“So what is it that excites you so?” he asked, his fingers travelling downwards to cup the bulge in Thor’s trousers. “The sport or the weather?”

“Mostly the hope of seeing you shut up for five minutes,” Thor said hoarsely.

“Is that an order?” Loki said, feigning nonchalance while he slid down to settle between Thor’s legs. His smile was sharp, wicked; Thor had missed it dearly.

“Brother,” Thor said, “do not mistake it for anything less.”

His head thudded against the tree at the first press of Loki’s lips. And he thought, before pleasure fogged his mind, that it was a lovely day indeed.


	4. Hold Me Close (But Not *That* Close, What Is Wrong With You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Thor is an aggressive snuggler. And Loki is just fine w/ that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also requested by Anon on [my tumblr](http://karuvapatta.tumblr.com/). Gen.

They are boys, still.

Loki tells himself that, when he lies trembling in his large bed with the covers pulled tight over his head. He keeps thinking,  _it’s okay, there’s nothing out there_ , when he bolts from his own chambers and hurries down the empty corridors, so odd in the moonlight.

Thor is fast asleep, and sprawled all over his bed. Loki edges closer, hypnotized by the sound of his brother’s even breathing. He tells himself, _there’s nothing to be scared of_ , and grabs Thor’s bare foot.

“Whaa—” Thor sits up, kicking his legs reflexively. He tries to blink sleep from his eyes, his entire face dazed. The blond hair is a halo around his head. “Loki?”

“There’s someone in my room,” Loki explains. “I heard a noise.”

Thor scowls. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes I did,” Loki says, irritably. “There was a noise—we should call the guards.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Thor scrambles up, covering a huge yawn with his fist.

Loki glares at him and shuffles his feet.

“What if it’s the Frost Giants?” he asks, shuddering at the memory. Their father’s tale is still bright and vivid in his mind. He has dreamt of ice and darkness, even in here, even in the safety of the golden halls of Asgard.

“There are no Frost Giants in your room, Loki,” Thor says. “Now let me sleep.”

“All right,” Loki says. “Fine. Have it your way. Just don’t blame  _me_ if they find me dead in the morning—”

“Stop that,” Thor says. He grabs Loki’s hand and pulls him forward. “Come on. I’ll prove it to you—”

Thor’s hand is bigger than Loki’s, although nowhere as big as their father’s. And yet it is sure and warm; Loki lets himself be tugged down the corridor, eyes focused on Thor’s yellow hair and the way it sticks out in different directions.

“See?” Thor says, marching boldly into Loki’s room. “It’s empty. You’re safe.”

He’s right. Of course he is. Still Loki hovers, fingers clutching the doorframe where his brother won’t see.

“You don’t know that,” Loki says, stubborn.

“I’m  _tired_ , Loki,” Thor says. “I want to sleep.”

“Well so do I, but I can't—hey!”

Thor drags him forward. They collapse in a heap on the bed, Loki’s limbs flailing wildly.

“Sleep,” Thor tells him.

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

In response, Thor smothers him in a hug. Loki tries to wriggle free but Thor is asleep in  _minutes_ , with his arms tight around Loki’s chest and Loki’s head tucked underneath his chin.

Loki supposes there are worse ways to fall asleep.

***

They are no longer boys, and truly, this is unacceptable.

“Stop that,” Loki hisses.

Thor wakes up much faster, alert in the blink of an eye. He has his warrior instincts to guide him now, and Loki idly wonders which of them prompted Thor to draw his brother even further into his tight embrace.

“Stop what?” Thor asks, genuinely confused once he determines there’s no danger. There’s only the two of them, with their cloaks spread out in the dirt and the protective cocoon of Loki’s seidr.

“You are  _snuggling_ me,” Loki says.

“I’m cold,” Thor says, shrugging. It is hard to believe – his body is large and warm, lying half on top of Loki’s, almost suffocating him with its weight.

“I sincerely doubt that, brother,” Loki grumbles.

“Will you cease your flailing? I’m trying to get some rest.”

“I’m not a child,” Loki says petulantly. It’s hard to sound dignified with Thor’s heavy arm around his shoulders, his own face inches from Thor’s neck. “Stop treating me like one.”

Thor sighs. His bright blue eyes focus on Loki’s face, his hand coming up to rest on the back of Loki’s neck.

“I sleep better when I have you near,” he says honestly.

“ _Not_ a child, Thor,” Loki says.

“But still my little brother,” Thor says, smiling.

Damn him. Loki is utterly defenceless in the face of that smile.

“Fine, have it your way,” he tries to sound displeased. Truly, he does. He has his dignity to maintain, after all – and what if Thor’s embrace makes him feel safe and loved? What of it. What if he  _likes_ the weight of Thor’s arm, and the mixture of scents, his skin and ozone, and the way his fingers curl around Loki’s neck?

 _Well, what of it?_  Loki huffs a breath, and lets himself be tugged closer. _Nobody has to know._

***

But that was a long time ago. Loki has slept alone for many years now.


	5. Thorcat & Lokitty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: everyone and everything are cats :3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by [fatcatfishdish](http://fatcatfishdish.tumblr.com//) on [my tumblr](http://karuvapatta.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Gen. Also: cats.

There was a new scent.

Thor leapt up from his end of the couch and followed it to the source. It was odd, not-human and unfamiliar – that of another cat. Thor would be ready to fight the intruder but the scent was accompanied by that of Thor’s Human, and therefore probably safe.

The Human walked in and set a box on the ground. Thor hurried closer, on careful paws. The box was emitting soft mewling sounds.

A hand rubbed Thor’s head and he leaned into it, greeting his Human before his attention was brought elsewhere. The crate opened, and the mewling stopped – Thor sat back, ready to pounce should danger present itself. He saw whiskers, and a tiny black paw before the rest of the newcomer emerged.

It was a kitten, completely black and decidedly smaller than Thor. The scent was stronger now and Thor recognized it more – the Human occasionally came back with faint traces of it. The kitten padded forward, skittish and nervous, examining its surroundings with wide-eyed, unblinking stare. Then its eyes settled on Thor; Thor looked back.

They watched each other, unmoving, while the Human hovered. Thor determined there was no danger and moved slowly forward, twitching his whiskers.

“Thor,” the Human said. “Loki.”

While the Human made noises, Thor shuffled forward. He decided that the newcomer smelled pleasantly, and indeed like a Loki.

Loki was still watching him, warily. Thor remained careful and unthreatening, as there was no pride to be taken in frightening such small a creature. Their noses almost touched in greeting, although Thor had to bow his head a little for Loki to reach him.

They sniffed each other, getting used to the strange new scents. Thor was ready to take introductions a step further and meowed, encouraging.

But then Loki hissed and jumped back, his fur standing on ends. The Human’s hands came down to pet him but Loki was bolting away, quick and nimble, shooting straight for the dark space under the couch.

Thor shrugged and rubbed himself on the Human’s legs, asking to be petted. If Loki wanted to hide, let him; there was fun to be had, food to be eaten and butterflies to be chased in the garden. Thor had no time for skittish newcomers. And besides, he would be gone soon.

***

Loki’s scent persisted. The owner of it was seldom to be seen, hissing at Thor and the Human and hiding under the furniture.

Thor observed from a distance as Loki padded over to a new bowl where food was laid out; the other bowl was marked as Thor’s and the kitten was wise to keep from it. But Loki only sniffed the contents and gave them an experimental lick, his ears twitching. Then he turned about and stalked away, visibly offended.

Thor watched. Loki leapt up onto the table where the Human was having food; one of the things that was Not Done. But Loki only meowed, deftly evaded the hands that tried to pry him off the table, and seized a slice of ham before bolting away.

***

Loki was watching.

Thor knew that. He himself was curled in the Human’s lap, purring loudly. Then he rolled about and exposed his belly, asking to be petted. He blinked twice, and ignored the kitten.

The Human’s hand was bearing scratch marks that smelled, unmistakeably, of Loki. Thor licked him, and received more petting for his efforts. He purred, content.

Loki watched.

***

There were more scratch marks, and more things that were Not Done that Loki, nevertheless, Did. He meowed, quite happily, and sharpened his claws on the couch. Then he tried to climb the curtains, until his grip slipped and he fell, knocking about a plant and spilling dirt on the ground on his way down.

Loki shook and trotted away, unbothered, as if that went exactly as planned.

***

The Human had to hold Loki tightly. The kitten was mewling, hissing and trying to bite, as his claws were being filed.

Then the Human set Loki on the ground, and Loki bolted.

***

Thor watched.

Loki padded to his favourite spot and tried to scratch the couch. But his efforts were fruitless; Loki stared at his paws in confusion, and tried to scratch again. Then he made quite an unhappy little mewling noise. He wasn’t cheered up, not until the appearance of the Red Dot that distracted him.

Later, much later, Thor padded upstairs, following the scent of Loki’s wet fur. He saw tiny pawmarks on the floor, made of dirt and water.

Loki was in the Human’s sleeping place, leaping up onto the bed. He had played outside in the rain, rolling around in the ground. Now, tired and sleepy, he curled into a ball on the fluffy white pillow.

***

Thor could almost make peace with the presence of another’s scent. The Human still fed him and petted him, and that was alright with Thor.

Until he found Loki in his Spot.

The kitten was asleep, curled in the bright patch of sunlight. Then his tail twitched and he woke up slowly, twisting to look at Thor, unblinking.

Thor hissed. And pounced.

Loki bolted away, yowling, before Thor’s claws could reach him. He was quick and nimble for one so small, jumping onto furniture with surprising strength in his tiny black paws. Thor was right behind him.

They were followed by the clash and clutter of things tumbling to the ground, knocked away during their chase. This spooked Loki even further; Thor also tried to run away from the noises.

He caught with Loki and they rolled on the ground, hissing and biting and pawing at each other. The kitten had sharp little teeth, but Thor was bigger and stronger.

They fought. Thor would  _show_ the newcomer that the Spot was Thor’s, and the Human was also Thor’s; Loki could go and find his own.

He hissed and leapt back when something wet hit him in the face. The Human was making loud, displeased noises, spraying water at them both.

***

Thor took to ignoring Loki. Loki took to bothering Thor.

He sat down below Thor’s Spot and meowed. Thor ignored him. Then Loki followed him, outside to chase the butterflies, and back inside when Thor groomed himself or received his petting. He watched, unblinking, and meowed and meowed.

When that had no effect, Loki butted him with his head. He was still small, and his fur was soft. But Thor ignored that too, and hissed when Loki started getting too familiar.

Eventually though, Thor got bored. Loki brought him a toy and asked to play, chasing around and curling his tail in the air. He was looking better now than back when the Human first brought him in; and was also learning about the things Done and things Not Done. They didn’t fight quite that often, even if Thor still chased him away occasionally when Loki started getting on his nerves.

Like now, when Loki swatted Thor’s nose with his paw and jumped away. He was still close, watching Thor. Then, when no attack was forthcoming, he padded closer, sat down, and blinked, twice.

Thor yawned. He wanted Loki to go away, so that he could carry on with his much-needed nap. His Spot was bright and warm, flooded with sunlight, and Thor didn’t feel like moving.

Loki came closer. He butted Thor with his head, and then  _licked him_.

Thor meowed, offended. Between the two of them, Loki was the one who ought to get groomed; his fur was sticking out in places. He drew the kitten in and licked, and Loki swatted his face again, tail swinging back and forth.

They curled around each other. Playing must have tired Loki, and he seemed quite smug while he twined himself around Thor and settled down to sleep.

Thor supposed it was alright. After all, the Spot was big enough for them both.


	6. With Brother Like This, Enemies Are Redundant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the Anon prompt: I wish you would write a fic where...loki could be a little shit (like he is!!) , but wont let anybody but him, treat his brother like he does. also he has a weakness for thor and angry sex :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also requested on [my tumblr](http://karuvapatta.tumblr.com/).
> 
> I _might_ have gone overboard with angst. And general fuckery. And Loki being evil. Also it's surprisingly SFW.
> 
> **Warnings:** Mentions of off-screen violence.

What woke him up was not a sound or a feeling, but rather an absence of it.

It was a welcome change from the constant whirling of the mortal machines. He felt sounder in mind and body, too, having purged the sedatives from his system through the long rest. The serenity of his surroundings was welcome.

And troubling.

Thor sat up, the covers sliding from his bare chest. The small room was neat and tidy, with a picture on the yellow walls, a sturdy chair next to the bed and a half-open window, overlooking a garden and rolling hills. Sunlight flooded through the window, and gentle breeze played with lacy white curtains.

There was nothing in here that signified “danger”, and yet Thor remained wary. The silence – not silence of the city but that of a countryside, filled with birdsong and rustling of leaves in the wind – was so unlike the mortal laboratory he had been trapped in. Certain details escaped him, and chief among them was the passage of time. He did not know how long his captivity lasted; he most definitely did not know how he came to be here.

One thing was sure: he had been weakened. First step he took on the rough wooden floor was uncertain and wobbly. Second came easier, and by the third he had properly regained his balance. The fourth step he could not take, having already covered the length of the room.

Thor paused with his hand on the doorknob. The house was largely quiet, but there was a presence inside it – a familiar stirring of that which flowed through his veins, and which he dared not call seiðr for how he was largely unschooled in its ways. However—

Outside laid a narrow corridor, and a rickety wooden staircase that led downstairs. His bare feet made no sound but the floorboards creaked under his weight. No point in secrecy then.

Sure enough, he found Loki in the sunlit sitting room, sipping coffee and engrossed in a book. Or what looked like Loki – Thor walked in, careful.

“I thought I would have more time,” Loki remarked, not lifting his eyes from the page. “It seems I have underestimated you, brother. Again.”

“Is it really you?” Thor asked.

“Who else would it be?” Loki scoffed.

“Prove it.”

Only now did Loki look straight at him, and smiled a tight-lipped little smile.

“Very well,” he said. “Turn around.”

“What for?” Thor said, warily.

“So that I can stab you in the back. Obviously.”

Thor’s fingers twitched, dearly missing the steady weight of Mjolnir in their grip. Alas, the weapon was nowhere to be found, and too far for him to call it.

“I did wonder when you would show up,” he said.

Loki regarded him coolly.

“Before you start throwing accusations, you ought to know I had nothing to do with the business of your—imprisonment. In truth,” he cheered up, considerably. “You might even say I have saved you.”

“I dread to ask for what purpose,” Thor said.

“Out of kindness of my heart,” Loki said maliciously.

No attacks seemed to be forthcoming, and Thor  _was_  dreadfully hungry. He stepped into the kitchen and emptied a bottle of water, as well as most of the contents of a fruit bowl and half a loaf of bread. Loki had probably lived here for a while but the kitchen was void of everything save alcohol and coffee. Other kinds of food and drink have been, apparently, deemed unworthy of Loki’s notice.

He went back into the sitting room and caught sight of Loki scribbling something in a notebook before vanishing it into thin air. The gesture was achingly familiar – Loki had always jealously guarded his secrets.

“If you weren’t behind it, then who was?” Thor asked, unwilling to waste his time on small talk. He did not much appreciate spending time in Loki’s presence, even when both of them had their guards down and they were in peaceful, amiable surroundings. It stirred—memories.

“A thoroughly uninteresting bunch of mortals, which, I am appalled to note, has managed to apprehend you,” Loki shot him a cold look. “Whatever happened, dear brother?”

“Your pretend ignorance isn’t as good as you might believe, Loki,” Thor said.

Loki bared his teeth in a parody of a smile. “Oh. Of course. It was one of your mortal friends, was it not? So fragile. So precious,” his tone turned bitter –  _more_ bitter, that is. “And you have walked into that trap for them. How very heroic.”

“My mortal friends, whom you have endangered,” Thor said, fists clenching. “Loki, if those people harm a single hair on their heads,  _I will have yours_.”

Loki laughed. It was a cold, unpleasant sound, instantly chilling the air in the picturesque little cottage.

“That would be quite an extraordinary achievement,” he said icily. “Considering the state I left them in.”

Thor took a moment to absorb that information. His—brother was more prone to grudges than fury, which didn’t mean he was incapable of the latter. And if Loki got his hands on Thor’s captors, as he claimed, Thor did not envy them their fate.

Or he could be lying, and this was an attempt at winning back Thor’s trust.

“Contact your friends, if you don’t believe me,” Loki said flippantly. “Or better yet, go to them at once. I have grown tired of your presence.”

“How long have I slept?” Thor asked.

“Three days.”

“You have been a most caring host, then,” Thor said. He was clean, his hair washed and his trousers – the only article of clothing Loki had bothered to put on him – were new and fitted well. His captors never bothered with that.

“There was a lot of blood, Thor,” Loki said dreamily. “I had to get it off you somehow before I put you to bed.”

“And you haven’t enjoyed it in the slightest, have you?” Thor asked flatly.

“The carnage, or your nudity?” Loki shrugged. “It was hardly the first time I have dealt with either.”

Loki set the empty coffee cup on the table with a soft clink. Now that his hands were empty Thor could tell, once he focused, that there was a faint tremor in them. His face, too, looked worn out and tired.

“Shall I offer you my gratitude, then?” Thor asked. “Is that what you expect?”

“I hear it’s customary,” Loki said sweetly. “But you’ve never made a habit of it, brother. I’m not expecting miracles.”

Thor felt about ready to throttle him, but kept his hands to himself. Meanwhile, Loki noticed the way Thor’s gaze was drawn to his trembling hands; he pushed to his feet and turned towards the window, lacing his fingers together.

“I did tell you, Thor,” he said flatly. “These mortals would be your weakness. They have turned you soft, defenceless. Caring so much for the safety of others might prove to be your downfall.”

“Yes, thank the Norns you are above all that,” Thor said to Loki’s back.

Loki spun around, eyes blazing.

“Do not flatter yourself,” he hissed. “I was only looking after my own business. If the mortals think it’s this easy to take down a Prince of Asgard—”

“Your reputation will suffer,” Thor finished. “But you forget, Loki. There’s only one Prince of Asgard in this room.”

Loki’s face changed. He had almost – but not quite – managed to school the wide-eyed shock into a scornful smile.

“I think I liked you better when you were stupid and kind,” he said.

“What of it? I  _know_  I liked you better when you were still my brother,” Thor said.

“How unfortunate,” Loki said. “I guess you will have to console yourself with your magic hammer, the throne of Asgard, and your army of faithful friends. Goodness,  _how ever will you manage_?”

“Do not start this again,” Thor said. “All of these could be yours—”

“Except the hammer.”

“You’ve never cared about the hammer!” Thor exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “You only wanted it because it was mine!”

“I cannot, in good conscience, argue with that,” Loki said drily. “I want a lot of things that are yours. Which reminds me—”

The sudden flare of seiðr knocked Thor back, pinning him to the wall. The thin plaster did not handle it well, showing cracks on its white surface; lamps and pictures clattered to the floor.

Loki was up in his face, power cracking at his fingertips and madness shining in his sunken eyes.

“Next time,  _next time,_ you willingly put yourself into enemy hands, you featherbrained idiot,  _make sure they are mine._ ”

Thor gritted his teeth. Loki’s seiðr tightened around his throat, threatening, before its grip loosened and he could breathe comfortably once more.

Still Loki glared at him, bitter and resentful. And Thor despised him for that look – how  _dare_  Loki act like he has a claim on him? It was him who cast it all aside, the bonds of their brotherhood, Thor’s love…

Although Thor supposed he already knew the answer. He could hardly look into Loki’s face without seeing a reflection of his own. Their relationship changed them both, in ways that went down to Thor’s very core.

But Loki acted as if Thor had personally insulted him—

“Go to Hel,” Thor said.

“I intend to,” Loki said.

Thor did not know who moved first. He also did not know how he came to reverse their position, slamming into Loki’s thin body and crushing his mouth in a rough kiss.

There was nothing but rage and desperation in their hands and mouths – a cruel parody of the intimacy he had longed for. But this was the only way—the only way they would have each other, now, hissing and biting and bruising.

Loki was breathless and flushed red. But his eyes shone with badly concealed delight, even as the bones of his wrists cracked in Thor’s grip.

“If only your friends could see you now,” he said hoarsely. “Oh, how low you have fallen.”

“You fell a longer way,” Thor said, chasing his mouth. He could taste blood in their kiss, no doubt from Loki’s sharp teeth.

He shoved his thigh between Loki’s legs, which parted easily for him.

Of course this was what Loki wanted. Even during his better days, he could hardly distinguish between sex and violence. And he coveted Thor’s attention, the evil, jealous little—

“But think of it that way,” Loki said, coming up for air. “In light of certain revelations. This isn’t incest as much as it is bestiality, yes?”

He laughed when Thor bit his neck, and moaned loudly when Thor’s hands tightened on his hips.

“One might even call it an improvement,” Loki mused.

Later, when their tempers cooled down, Loki looked at him critically. His pale skin was marred with teeth-marks and finger-shaped bruises, and he seemed quite content.

“You do realize,” he said, trailing fingers over Thor’s chest. “That I was the one who told them it was the only way to capture you?” He grinned, feral. “My bad.”

Thor felt a surge of hatred. But, he thought – and Loki felt the same way, not even he could deny it, not with how terrified he was of losing Thor – that hatred was but a different name for what they had always shared.

Loki’s smile faded, giving way to something much softer, and much more vulnerable. Or perhaps it was a thoughtful performance: perhaps Loki truly cared nothing about him, and was merely praising himself for his excellent acting ability.

Thor kissed him, deliberately gentle, with calm certainty he could not put into words. Because, in the end, he knew perfectly well that there were some lies only Loki could believe.


	7. Flirting 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki x Bananas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by [poledanceloki](http://poledanceloki.tumblr.com/) on [my tumblr](http://karuvapatta.tumblr.com/): _I found this one here a while ago "you sit across from me in class and every morning you stare me down whilst eating a banana" and I can't stop laughing at the thought of Loki eating a banana whilst staring at Thor so yeah it'd be perfect if you could write something with that c: !!_

Loki was staring at him again.

It was becoming a regular occurrence. The two of them were usually the first to arrive, Thor coming straight from the gym and Loki appearing from God knows where. He was an odd guy, daydreaming through most of their classes and then acing all the tests; during free periods he kept to himself, always busy with a book or his laptop.

Not that Thor paid any sort of attention. Sometimes it was just difficult not to—

Oh. Damn.

With single-minded determination, Thor shoved his face in the notebook for some last-minute cramming. It was bad enough when Loki played with a pen, spinning it between his long fingers. Or when he smiled his cold, sharp smile that made Thor want to punch him. But, no. Loki had to choose damned  _bananas_  as the staple of his morning diet.

He had one now, and peeled it with deliberate, unhurried motions. His eyes never left Thor.

Thor tried to focus on his handwriting. No, this was beyond ridiculous. He would laugh, except Loki’s maintained a perfect poker-face, even though he  _had_ to know what he was doing.

Loki had bright eyes and black hair, which framed his narrow pale face. He wasn’t good-looking exactly – or maybe he was – or maybe he was good at acting like he was. Thor did not let his mind wander in that direction – not often, anyway – but there was something striking about Loki.

The banana curved in Loki’s hand. He laid the tip against his pink lower lip, and then  _put it in his mouth_ for way longer than was socially acceptable.

Thor glared at him. There was no use in pretending he wasn’t staring at Loki. And now that he was looking, he couldn’t help but notice the shape of Loki’s lips wrapped around the fruit, or the way his cheeks hollowed slightly. Or his eyes, suddenly half-lidded and unfocused.

No, he would not give Loki the satisfaction of winning this stupid game of his. Nor would he back down from the challenge.

–oh. Damn. Loki, having caught Thor’s attention, slid  _more_  of the banana into his mouth. More than Thor thought possible without choking. His eyelashes fluttered, his throat worked – and then, blissfully, he took a bite, chewing with his mouth closed and his gaze holding Thor’s.

Thor, officially, had had enough.

“What is wrong with you?” he demanded, walking up to Loki’s desk and staring down at him.

“Nothing,” Loki said. His voice, low and melodious, almost made Thor shiver. Almost. “I’m enjoying my breakfast.”

“I wouldn’t call it breakfast,” Thor said.

Loki blinked at him, innocently, and put the banana in his mouth,  _again_. He sat sprawled in the chair, and with Thor standing, his head was nearly level with Thor’s groin—

“Stop that,” Thor said, fists balling in frustration. His jeans were too tight for this – and if Loki noticed…

Loki  _did_ notice. Subsequently, he began to laugh.

“Oh, thank fuck,” he said, breathless. “I almost thought this had no effect on you.”

“You’re insane,” Thor said. But he smiled, in spite of everything. That was the first time he heard Loki laugh.

“So I’ve been told,” Loki said. He looked entirely too comfortable under the weight of Thor’s gaze.

Thor shook his head.

“I’m serious, you know. That was horrible. You should be ashamed of yourself,” he said, although he couldn’t stop grinning. He had never known Loki – quiet at his best, hostile at his worst, which was most of the time – to look so relaxed. Cheerful, even.

“I am. Horribly,” Loki smirked. From up close, his face was a lot more expressive than Thor expected it to be. “But did it work?”

“Did what work?” Thor said, trying to act like he didn’t have an erection.

“Are you going to ask me out?” Loki asked, curious.

Thor swallowed. It wasn’t like—it wasn’t like he spent a lot of time thinking about this. About kissing Loki’s smirking lips, or tangling his hands in his soft black hair. It wasn’t like he had any images in particular of Loki’s hands, or neck, or ass, or legs, and of all the things he wanted to do to them.

“I’ll buy you a coffee,” he said, and didn’t add,  _If you suck my dick_. He was very proud that he didn’t. “Today?”

“Sure,” Loki said. “If you insist.”

He started laughing, and the sound of it was jarring for how uncommon it was.

“ _Finally_ ,” Loki said, rising to his feet. He was only an inch shorter than Thor, and his sharp smile promised a lot of things that made Thor’s heart beat a little faster. “Because I really hate bananas.”


	8. Round and Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt by [sheilatakesabow](http://sheilatakesabow.tumblr.com/): How about fluffy thorki date at the fun fair with Thor convincing Loki to go together on the carrousel? :D

“Thor,” Loki said, in mildly incredulous tone. “You are not serious.”

“Why not?” Thor asked.

“Because this is an  _insult_. To your dignity and mine.”

“No, Loki, this is a carrousel,” Thor said.

“You cannot mean for us to partake in this childish nonsense!”

Thor merely smiled in response. It was true that the brightly-coloured ponies, spinning in a merry circle to the tune of cheerful music, were a tad undersized for the two of them. But the appalled expression on Loki’s face was too good to let the matter drop.

“The local people seem to enjoy it well enough,” he said.

“Do I look like a mortal child to you?” Loki grumbled.

That was an acceptable excuse for Thor to scrutinize his brother. His disguise was startlingly simple – nothing was changed about his face or eyes. But he moved differently, having dropped his assured grace for a more unsteady gait. And he wore ordinary mortal clothing – a button-up shirt, leather jacket, jeans. The only use of seiðr was apparent in the colour of his hair, which became red and curly.

There was a particular lock of hair, curling at the nape of his neck, which begged to be tugged. Thor had to constantly fight the childish desire to do so.

“You do not,” Thor said, unable to keep the warmth from his tone.

Affection never came easy for Loki – neither expressing nor receiving it. Now, too, he drew further back into his shell.

“My answer is still no,” he said and turned sharply on his heel, stalking off.

The fair was nothing like the ones on Asgard – which lasted for days, featured more song and tales, occasional tournament, and a great deal more mead. Still, Thor found simple, uncomplicated joy in his surroundings. The crowd was thick and merry, with children shooting past him, or dragging their parents to one of the stalls, carrousels, games or rollercoasters.

Loki was sulking, predictably. But he was  _here_ , with Thor; good will was shown, and Thor was a reasonable man. He did not expect miracles. No, he was content with following in Loki’s footsteps, as it allowed him ample opportunity to appreciate his long legs and the curve of his backside.

The pleasant haze of his thoughts was disturbed by a small child, running at high speed straight towards his legs. He managed to intercept her before she hurt herself and crouched down, face-to-face with a dark-skinned girl. She gawked at him.

“Wait! Are you Thor? Are you really Thor?” she clasped her hands and smiled brightly. “You are! You’re my favourite Avenger!”

“You honour me,” Thor said, smiling.

The girl squeaked in delight. “Is it true you control the weather? And that you have a hammer that can shoot lightning? And that no-one else can lift? And that—”

“Ororo,” the girl’s mother said, horrified.

“No, this is quite all right,” Thor said. “You are a very brave young maiden. It is true I wield the hammer Mjölnir. But I have no need of it today, as there are no villains to be fought and I’m here to enjoy the festivities.”

“Ooh,” the girl said, mildly disappointed. But then she cheered up. “Did you try candyfloss? It is my favourite!”

“I haven’t yet,” Thor laughed. “But I will make sure to sample it, with such a heartfelt recommendation.”

Other children drew in, tugging at his sleeves, asking various questions and talking about their preferred sweets. Dumbfounded parents tried to pry them away, but Thor could never mind such honest, good-natured attention. He tried to answer a myriad of inquiries, ranging from his home in Asgard to whether or not he braided his own hair.

He caught sight of Loki, lurking in the shadows, and smiled.

“And now, my brother shall tell you a story,” Thor told the excitable crowd. “There’s no better story-teller, trust me.”

Loki’s glare screamed murder. But he couldn’t snap back because the children were already swarming him.

“Very well,” Loki said, resigned to his fate.

His audience might not appreciate the dramatic scope of Loki’s voice, so he went for a simpler tale: that of a brave and noble hero. A wise king set him upon a quest to prove his worthiness, and the quest was to slay a vicious monster; but the hero, being not only brave but also stupid, misunderstood the king’s intent and befriended the monster instead.

Loki’s delivery was light, maintaining the rhymes and rhythm with ease, even though Thor was almost certain he was inventing the tale on the spot. The children were enraptured, too young to catch any faults in Loki’s storytelling but happy to get swept away in the adventure.

When this one was done, they began to cry for another. Loki seemed mildly bewildered, especially since one girl was clinging to his arm, pulling him back towards the bench.

“No, this is enough for today,” Loki said. “Thor! Thor—”

Thor came to the rescue, laughing all the while. He was well aware he should not mock the panicked look on Loki’s face, but the atmosphere was getting to him, and the sheer joy of being with his brother once again was too much to be contained.

“Come now, brother! We must go and try this candyfloss now. I’ve heard it’s most excellent.”

They made their escape. Shortly thereafter, Loki was picking at his candyfloss with dainty gestures, now on the look-out for any children that might accost them.

“That was a horrid experience,” he said.

“On the contrary, you did splendidly well,” Thor said, clasping him on the shoulder. He let his hand linger, longing for the warmth of Loki’s body beneath the layers of clothing. “As I said, brother: you would do well to give Midgardians something else to remember you by.”

Loki’s expression went carefully blank. But he did not shake off Thor’s hold, which was a good sign.

“So you enjoyed my performance, then?” he asked, changing the subject.

“I did,” Thor said. “Although I must say, I found the metaphor a bit heavy-handed.”

At that, Loki only snorted. “Really? I thought we went past subtlety the moment you began courting me.”

They walked in silence. Loki examined his candyfloss, frowning at how sticky his mouth and fingers had become.

“You’ve noticed?” Thor said softly. “I thought you haven’t.”

“Of course I’ve noticed,” Loki said. “I simply refrained from acknowledging it because I was embarrassed for you, brother.”

“Is that so?”

Loki pressed his mouth in a thin line. They walked to the edge of the crowd, where they found some relative privacy in the dimmed light.

Most certainly, Loki would brush him off. Thor saw it in the scornful twist of his smile and the glint in his eyes – but he also saw the blush creeping on Loki’s pale cheeks under the weight of Thor’s gaze.

They ought to talk, perhaps. But words were Loki’s strength and refuge; he would twist them around to suit his purpose, and refuse to accept what Thor was trying to convey. And Thor – Thor would be heard. Not only heard but  _understood_. And then let Loki react as he will.

“I cannot think of a single reason I should be embarrassed,” Thor said quietly. He brushed a stray wisp of pink candyfloss from Loki’s upper lip.

Loki shivered at the gesture and stubbornly avoided Thor’s gaze. “That’s because you are a fool, brother. You refuse to acknowledge simple truths.”

Still Loki wouldn’t meet his eyes. But Thor felt no frustration now, only quiet, peaceful warmth in his chest. His thumb caught on Loki’s lower lip and he marvelled at the softness of it.

“I am not the only one who runs away from simplicity, brother.  _Loki_.”

He hadn’t meant to say it quite like that – low and husky, the short syllables of Loki’s name stretching between them. He also hadn’t meant for it to make Loki shiver, and for Thor’s heart to beat that much faster.

The sound of Loki’s harsh breathing seemed to drawn out the festivities around them. The tension written into every line of his face bothered Thor, but not as much as the distance still between them. If he could reach out far enough, pull Loki in so that he would never be able to leave again—

But he couldn’t. This was Loki’s choice to make, as it always had been.

He settled for a quick peck on Loki’s lips, even though his blood cried out for more. But the startled look on his brother’s face was worth it, and Thor laughed joyfully.

“Come now,” he said. “You owe me a carrousel ride.”

“Oh for—Very well. Have it your way.”

Loki followed, and let himself be seated on a colourful figurine, his expression sour as the carrousel began to spin. Around them, children were hooting with amusement.

Thor’s own pony groaned underneath his weight, but managed to hold somehow. All of a sudden, he felt a brush against his palm – an uncertain touch of long, clever fingers that wrapped in a loose hold around his own. And then, gaining confidence, squeezed.

He beamed at Loki and held his hand firmly, giddy with happiness.

Because this was a start. He wasn't sure of what, exactly - but he couldn't wait to find out.


	9. I Know What You Did Last Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teenage Thor and his annoying little brother went on family vacation. Sailing is nice; Loki isn't.

The wind started settling down around sunset. The night remained still and quiet, utterly thwarting Thor's hopes of some midnight sailing. He scowled at the empty sky, while beneath him _Jörmungandr_ swayed on the gentle waves.

"Let's turn off the lights," Loki said. He was flat on his back with binoculars pressed to his face, trying to watch the stars. "It's too bright."

"We're anchoring, idiot," Thor said. "We need the all-around—"

"Yes, yes, I've read the rules," Loki sneered, which was his usual reaction to rules of any kind. "Come on! It'll be so pretty!"

Thor gave this some consideration. The bay was empty save for their boat, and there was nothing but jagged rocks surrounding them. To their left, a gap would take them back to the open waters. There was also a strip of rocky beach with a network of caves Thor and Loki had already explored when they first got here.

It _would_ be pretty. No source of light around, no clouds in the sky – even the moon was in waning crescent. But—

"Wait here," Thor said, as if Loki was still a child who might topple over the railing and fall overboard. He took the steps below deck, careful not to bang his head on the ceiling, which, contrary to what Loki might say, did _not_ happen every single time.

Their parents were asleep in the large cabin in the bow. Or at least Thor hoped they were asleep. He shuddered at the thought of what else they might be doing.

The switchboard was above the navigation desk. He managed to find the right one and flipped it.

"Ooooh," Loki said.

"Be quiet," Thor told him sternly. As the oldest person awake, he felt it was his responsibility to make sure everyone on board was safe.

His nuisance of a little brother seemed placated for now, drinking in the sight. Thor had to give him that: it was pretty. He tried to trace back some familiar constellations, all the stars of the Little Dipper, the Milky Way spilling across the sky…

"What are you doing?" he asked suddenly.

"Undressing," Loki said.

"Yes, I can see _that!_ "

"If you can see, why are you asking?" Loki glared at him haughtily. "I'm going swimming."

"You can't go swimming, it's midnight and the water is cold!" Thor said.

"It's only eleven thirty," Loki pointed out. He was stark naked and busy lowering one long, pale leg into the water.

"We're supposed to be keeping watch," Thor said. His brother was a handful even at the best of times; the cramped environment and forced proximity to his family made Loki even crankier than usual.

"Then keep it," Loki said, sliding in.

He managed to do it with minimal splashing. Immediately after, though, he shot up like a cork, breaking the surface of the water, and exhaled sharply.

"It's cold!"

"I've told you," Thor said, grinning.

Loki only glared at him. Then he kicked his legs and lay back in the water, floating, his naked body gleaming in the starlight.

Thor swallowed. His little brother wasn't usually this shameless in his nudity – unlike Thor, he always insisted on wearing clothes to bed. And he threw a fit each time they were in PE and there were no empty changing rooms, as if he had anything any other _boy_ might be interested in seeing—

Thor stubbornly tore his gaze away. He did not appreciate the direction his thoughts were running in. Certainly did not appreciate the semi hard-on, thankfully hidden in loose slacks. He was _trying_ but the images kept popping into his brain, the shape of Loki's lips, his bright eyes, long limbs, the perfectly flat stomach, narrow hips and the flaccid cock lying between his thighs…

"Hey," Loki said. "Come here."

He sounded bright, excited. Recently he took to sulking, something which their mother tiredly referred to as a "rebellious phase" and, if someone asked Thor, was just classic Loki. But now, his carefree voice just reminded Thor of the more peaceful part of their childhood. Back when Loki still looked at him with nothing but open adoration.

He would burn in hell for this.

"You're shivering," he said instead. He wouldn't risk undressing, not now. "Get out."

"No," Loki said. "I'm perfectly comfortable."

He made a few lazy motions, a breaststroke flipped on its back. He swam around, gaze fixed on the sky, blessedly ignorant of Thor's gaze that was fixed on him. But Thor was only making sure Loki didn't drown. Well, he was. Wasn't he?

He bit back another order. Loki would stay in the water just to be contrary, and Thor didn't want his brother to catch hypothermia. Instead he fished out a slightly rumpled pack of cookies and bag of wine that _might_ lure Loki out.

It did.

"Mum says we're not supposed to eat at this hour," Loki complained. Faced with Thor's indifferent shrug, he pulled himself out of the water at the low stern. He was shivering all over, and his lips had gone blue.

Thor stuffed another chocolate chip cookie in his mouth and went to turn on the anchoring light. Before climbing down, he threw one last longing look at the sky – it really was very pretty. But without the light, they were practically invisible. He had a vision of a giant ferryboat mowing them down, never mind that the bay was too small and too shallow for that.

When he came back, Loki had already showered the salt from his skin and was sitting in the cockpit, pouring wine into his mouth from the handy little tap.

"You're too young to drink," Thor told him and snatched the bag from his hand. Then he took a sip himself.

"I'm fourteen," Loki said. "Stop treating me like a child, you're only two years older."

"Two years make a difference," Thor said. He tossed Loki a blanket he had grabbed while below deck. When Loki scowled, now dressed but still shivering, Thor gave a deep sigh.

"Yes, Loki, very mature," he said. He took the blanket and wrapped it around Loki's shoulders, rubbing some heat into them. That brought him close to his brother – he could see droplets of water clinging to Loki's eyelashes, and the mosquito bite near the angle of his jaw he kept complaining about.

"Whatever," Loki said.

Thor didn't stop him when Loki curled down to sleep, although he felt a strong urge to do so when Loki shoved his legs straight into Thor's lap.

"I'm going to wake you up when it's your turn to keep watch," Thor said.

"Sure," Loki said. Then he smiled at Thor, in a way that made something flutter inside Thor's stomach. That face could get Thor into any sort of trouble, and Loki wasn't shy of abusing that fact. "Tell me a bed time story?"

"You're the one who likes telling stories," Thor said. His mouth had gone dry so he took another sip of wine. Not a bright idea, as it only made him more light-headed – and more conscious of the weight of Loki's legs in his lap.

"Then how about a good-night kiss?" Loki's sweet, innocent expression didn't falter.

Thor forced a derisive snort through his clenched throat. "I'm not kissing you, you creep."

"You used to, when we were kids," Loki pouted like one. He sat up, bringing his face dangerously close.

"Kids, Loki," Thor said. They would do this a lot, hold hands, peck each other's cheek – Mum claimed it was adorable. Dad refrained from commenting, as per usual.

But that was a long time ago.

"Come on," Loki said. "No-one's ever kissed me before, I won't know if you're really bad at this."

"I am not bad at kissing!" Thor said, indignant. And _of course_ no-one had ever kissed Loki. His brother was still a child, and no-one would _dare_ – if they put their dirty paws on Loki, Thor would—he would—

"Prove it," Loki said, smirking.

Thor gritted his teeth. Giving Loki what he wanted was usually the only way to get him to shut up, if Thor couldn't beat him into submission. But he wasn't going to wrestle with Loki now, with his pants uncomfortably tight.

"Fine," he grumbled. He grabbed the back of Loki's neck and pecked his cheek.

Or, at least, he was planning to. He didn't count on how quick Loki could be, twisting around to catch Thor's lips with his own.

It lasted a second, maybe two. Or maybe it lasted longer than that, Loki's lips soft and warm and slightly damp, his wet hair clinging to Thor's hand. Maybe Thor imagined it, Loki slipping into his lap, opening his mouth for the hesitant slide of Thor's tongue, gasping softly in surprise when Thor brought him closer.

Thor broke the kiss and stared at Loki, horrified. They hadn't—and his treacherous body yearned for more, the hold he had on Loki's neck wouldn't loosen no matter how much we wanted it to—

"Oh," Loki said, quiet. His eyes were even brighter. "You are good at this."

Thor couldn't find his voice. So Loki smacked him on the nose, and grinned.

"Good night," he said, settling down. He gave the last, tired little mumble, which sounded suspiciously like, "Idiot."

"Good night," Thor said half an hour later, long after Loki had dozed off.

He kept the watch throughout most of the night, listening to his brother’s even breathing. Only when Dad showed up to relieve him did he go below deck. But even there, in the safety and relative solitude of his cabin, Thor couldn’t sleep.


	10. Post-AoU Loki ficlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a weird little post-AoU ficlet. Look, I don't even know...

He finds it difficult to speak. Air seems heavier in this place, and he can almost fool himself into thinking that it's colder, too.

"The mortals have the stone," he says carefully. His voice comes back weak, so he circles around the cavern. But there's only one spot of warm, golden light, and he dares not approach it. "And Thor is aware of the others' existence."

The Tesseract is still safe in the Vaults. He comes there every day to make sure, half-tempted to get rid of it. But its power gives him an illusion of security.

His mouth twists into a sneer. "They used it to power some kind of a construct. An artificial mind, not bound by the rules of seiðr. You ought to see it," and it's pleasant to consider the implications. "You'd hate it."

He doesn't add: the _thing_ is worthy. Of the damned hammer, of Thor' trust.

Another pause. He feels like he's about to suffocate.

"There's more," he says, slowly. "Someone else is hunting the stones. Thor knows this—"

His grip on Gungnir becomes more forceful. The spear _did_ bow to him, albeit reluctantly. And now he stands in the empty cavern as hysterical laughter tears out of his chest, Gungnir sending him visions, glimpses of the void beyond the Realms.

"You ought to have told us. You ought to have told _me_."

There's no answer. He hasn't been expecting any.

"And he will come for Midgard, and then he will come for Asgard. And then everything will burn."

He thinks he might enjoy that. Under different circumstances, if his own life wasn't on the line. But—Asgard is—

Words like _mine_ and _home_ no longer hold any meaning. He has seen, first-hand, how fragile and meaningless they are. Nothing lasts, not even Asgard – yet another lie, fed to him as a child at the hands of the people who claimed to love him.

"Everything will burn," he repeats, slowly. Another vision comes creeping in, courtesy of Gungnir: the Queen's funeral boat, in flames. A myriad of lights floating towards the starry sky. Ceremony that was denied to him, and which now plays before his eyes, over and over.

"It's not my fault," he says. It's true, but it comes across as an excuse, weak and pathetic. He's glad no-one can hear it.

His mind is blank and his heartbeat steady. He can risk a look at the figure, enveloped in golden glow of seiðr. It was a foolish hope to have placed him here, a memory of what happened in the Vaults the day his world shattered. Nevertheless, he—he clings to the lie, to the illusion, and reaches out with trembling hand.

The Allfather's skin is paper-thin. He seems peaceful in his sleep, like the last time. Like the last time, maybe he will wake up.

"Do you think Thor can save us?" he asks quietly, smiling. He's a fool, a damned fool for coming here so often. For taking comfort where there's none left for him: taking, taking, always taking.

There's no response. There's never any response. But he feels lighter now, and closes his eyes. He can see flashes of post-battle celebrations, Thor surrounded by his adoring mortals. He ought to come to Asgard soon, bearing news.

"I think he'll try," he says, answering his own question.

Moved by some strange impulse, he squeezes the Allfather's unresponsive hand. It seemed so large when he was a child, strong and capable of anything; yet another lie.

"Don't worry," he says. "I know he will."

Huginn and Muninn settle on his shoulders as soon as the illusion washes over him. And it's comforting, too: he isn't Loki anymore. He doesn't have to be.


	11. FUCK OR DIE (yes, really)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor and Loki are trapped, with enough supplies to get them through the week. There's just one small issue...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the anonymous prompt on [my tumblr](http://karuvapatta.tumblr.com/): "I have a prompt for you :D I was thinking of a Thorki fic because I saw a post with a 'Fuck or die' au. Now imagine that is the case, you either have sex regularly (say.. every week, from 18 years and onward? idk) or you just die. And it was all going fine. Thor had Sif/Jane/idk and Loki had Lorelei/Sigyn/idk. But then one day they're stuck together somewhere on their journey and they can't get out. They packed enough to survive a week but there is obviously one little issue.. fuck or die (plz)"
> 
> **Warnings:** dub-con

Two days later, they were still trapped.

Thor was no stranger to storm, but the howling blizzard beating against the cottage walls was prickling and unfamiliar. It came from Jötunheimr, he suspected; they were not far from the border, and the Giants often ventured here, followed by the cruellest of winters.

"We are lucky to have found this place, brother," he said, in an attempt at cheering them both up.

Loki glared. "I would not call this luck," he said. " _Thor_. We don't know when the blizzard will end. Our supplies might run out…"

"We have plenty of supplies," Thor patted Loki's shoulder, willing some optimism into his brother's troubled mind. "You have nothing to worry about."

_Yes. Nothing._

He stepped away, towards the fireplace. It was getting hotter. Not the fire – Thor hoped that would be it. No, the heat was somewhere in his blood, growing in strength. His heart beat inside his chest like a trapped animal. And his cock was heavy and full, the fabric around it too tight and too rough—

He knelt down, under the pretence of tending to the flames. He dared not adjust himself, not with Loki so close.

The tension hung in the air between them. Loki was curled on their furs and coats, scribbling sharp runes into his notebook, a deep frown marring his forehead. They couldn't afford to have any privacy – the abandoned cottage had this one room intact, almost everything having been stolen or destroyed by marauders. But it made for an acceptable shelter.

He cursed the urgency in his blood, and then the Norns and everything else besides. It had only been a couple of days, but Thor was young and virile. He never had to look far for willing lovers – but now—

Loki's profile was illuminated by the warm glow of seiðr. His hair was dishevelled, soft black curls partially obscuring his face. But still Thor could see the pallor of his skin, a bead of sweat running down his nose, and the way he licked his lips, as if they were drying out.

He did not understand. He did _not_. Loki was his brother, his own flesh and blood. The burning urgency would be satisfied with any release at the hand of another, but the purpose of it was to bring forth a new life with a suitable partner. Loki was a shape-shifter, and a powerful one; he wore his female form with as much careless grace as he did this one. Still, incest wasn't Thor's idea of ensuring a healthy offspring.

Thor balled his fists. It was getting worse by the minute, this fever burning inside him. But there was no-one else around, except for him and his brother – or sister, if the mood struck him thusly.

And, in a couple more hours, both of them might be dead.

"Loki," Thor said. He loathed himself for the low rumble of his voice.

"Don't," Loki said sharply. "We are better than this."

Thor stared at the flames, knowing this to be a lie. People died from refusing the call of their blood, just like they died from starvation or suffocation. It was simply the way of life.

Loki tossed around on the furs. His agitation was obvious, written into the widening of his pupils and the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. But above everything else, he seemed angry; as if this was a mild irritation he might will away.

Thor found himself unable to tear his gaze from his brother's face. He had never—never, except in his wildest, most shameful dreams. And now, with Loki turning to stare at him, those thoughts resurfaced.

Loki's lips turned bloodless and white with how hard he was pressing them together.

"You cannot mean to," he said.

Thor tried to smile, although his attempts were feeble at best. It was hard to concentrate with his cock pulsing between his legs. "Trust me, brother. I really don't."

Loki snorted. "You would rather have us die, then."

"I would rather be somewhere else. With _someone_ else," Thor said.

"At the very least, we found something we agree on," Loki said.

He turned his gaze to the ceiling. He was lying flat on his back, Thor's cloak pulled halfway up his chest. His long legs were folded, bent at the knees, the material distorted and pooling around his body, vivid red; it contrasted sharply with the pale hands clutching it.

Thor looked. And looked.

Loki squirmed, a grimace of pain crossing his face. Thor felt it too, the fever, the dryness in his mouth, his heartbeat speeding up. There was not enough air in the room, nowhere near enough.

" _Why?_ " Loki whined. "We're _brothers_. This should not happen between us."

"I wish I knew," Thor said.

With slow footsteps, each one heavier than the other, he approached Loki's supine form. His brother's eyes burned even brighter than usual, although the green was but a thin ring around his dilated pupil.

No word passed between them. Thor inhaled sharply, trying to ignore the dull pain in his groin. But he reached out to run his fingers over the skin of Loki's forehead. It was covered in cool, clammy sweat.

"This is not the way I expected to die," Thor said drily. "Do you think there's a place in Valhalla for victims of sexual frustration?"

"Perhaps," Loki said with a faint smile. "I suppose we shall find out soon enough, shan't we?"

Thor didn't respond. His hand travelled, unbidden, to the sharp arc of Loki's cheekbone, and then the soft skin below. He knew his brother's face better than he knew his own. The thought of Loki dying—no. He wouldn't—

"Although," Loki said quietly. "Don't you think you could mask your disgust of me long enough to consider that maybe I'm better than certain death?"

"What are you talking about?" Thor's hand jerked away, as if burned. "Loki—"

"You've thought about this," Loki said simply. "As have I."

There was no point in denying. There was also no way he could fight the animalistic urge clouding his vision and seizing control of his muscles. He _burned_ with it, equal parts pain and lust.

A growl tore out of his chest. Loki trembled beneath him, turning his face into Thor's caress.

"This is not how I wanted to die, either," he said through gritted teeth. "I _hate_ this, I always have—please—"

He arched up when Thor's hand slipped down to his neck, his pulse fluttering under Thor's thumb. Moments later his cheeks coloured with shame, and he licked his lips.

Thor leaned down. He was crowding Loki, he knew, and with every shaky breath he drew in Loki's scent. It made him light-headed, like a large gulp of wine.

"You do not disgust me," he said helplessly. He was burning everywhere, but Loki's skin was blessedly cool under his touch. "But I cannot—"

His lips almost touched Loki's forehead. Loki's hand was scrambling at his arm, the other one fisting in the sheets with the effort of keeping himself still.

"I cannot let you die," Thor said. The implications of that statement were lost in the haze of lust. "I will not."

"Oh, so you think I'm all right with the idea?" Loki asked. "You, dying? Because we were both too squeamish to—"

He gave a loud, startled moan when Thor's palm slid down his firm stomach, skirting the edge of his tunic. Thor did not dare venture lower – but he needed to, needed more of Loki's skin exposed for him—

"Please," Thor begged. He could chance the fire in his own blood, just as he rode through the high of his berserker rage. But it was killing Loki.

The red cloak slipped down, exposing the narrow sliver of flesh between Loki's tunic and his trousers. Almost subconsciously, Loki rolled his hips upwards, arching into Thor's touch. His teeth gritted and his cheeks were blotched red, burning with shame of how little control he had over his body.

"You'll notice I've never actually refused," he said breathlessly. "We're arguing over nothing."

"I wouldn't call it nothing," Thor said. He held to that thought, stubborn, because it was easier than admitting that it might be something they both want.

His muscles felt weak, and Loki's scent was intoxicating – he lowered his head, chasing warm huffs of Loki's breath on his cheek. His lips brushed against soft skin, so close to pressing against Loki's mouth—he could almost taste the kiss, his throat tight with anticipation.

Loki's head snapped to the side, exposing his neck.

"Don't," he said sharply. "Let's not make this into something it is not."

Thor paused, swallowed. His mouth was painfully dry.

"Very well."

They undressed with hurried, careless motions. Thor's hands fumbled and then faltered altogether when he felt Loki's nimble fingers near his groin, grasping for Thor's cock. He looked questioningly at Loki, who scowled at him in return.

"There's no need to draw it out," he said.

Thor's thought processes rapidly crashed when he felt his brother's hand around his shaft. He gasped, mouth falling open, and couldn't stop himself from trusting upwards into the loose grip.

Rush of blood in his ears drowned out all other sounds: cackling flames, howling wind, creaking wood. Loki's touch was hesitant and light, nowhere near enough to what Thor needed – not enough to satisfy him. Not enough to satiate the hunger before it consumed him.

He opened his mouth and breathed harshly, lost for words. He could never force himself to explain what they would have to do.

Loki made a strangled little sound and curled up onto himself, Thor's cock slipping from his grasp.

"Are you well?" Thor asked. He reached out, hoping to ease his brother's pain somehow – but his fingers slipped on silky pale skin. The waves of desire got even worse, now that he could get a proper look at Loki. Slender, graceful Loki, with his long legs and narrow hips, the sharp bones of his face and the bright green eyes, presently glaring at Thor.

"Do I look well?" he seethed.

_You look beautiful_ , Thor wanted to say. But it would not be welcome.

Loki's arousal was obvious in the red curve of his cock, lying against his stomach. It glistened at the tip, already wet; Thor reached out but Loki swatted his hand away, all methodical now that he got himself under control.

"Come on," he said, rising up on his knees. He had managed to find a bottle of oil, a healing salve or something else, Thor really couldn't care less. It coated his fingers in a thick layer. "Let me—"

Thor very nearly choked when Loki spread his legs and then reached between them. He could not properly see, not with Loki's balls in the way, so he focused on the look on Loki's face: the slow glide of discomfort into pleasure.

His own legs trembled. He was sitting on the floor, facing Loki, so that he could catch his brother when he swayed forward and steady him.

"I haven't done this in a while," Loki complained. Of course he would complain, now of all times. "This isn't exactly—"

"Just get on with it," Thor said hoarsely. He hadn't meant to bark an order like this – but this was too much. The whole world had gone mad; his own brother had a hand on Thor's chest for support, while he fingered himself, his entire body trembling.

"You do it, if you're so smart," Loki scowled.

Thor, against his better judgement, reached out to catch Loki's hips. He could barely see but he did feel, intimately, every inch of Loki's skin beneath his fingertips.

"Don't," Loki said. "I wasn't being serious."

Thor's fingers stilled. Loki's did as well, his eyes tightly shut, a soft sound escaping his lips.

" _Oh_ ," he said.

Just like that, Thor's patience snapped. He pulled Loki forward, helping him straddle Thor's lap. His cock seemed ready to burst, as Thor seized it with one hand, blindly guiding it towards Loki's entrance.

And then he found it – slick, welcoming, inviting him deeper. It was tight, too tight, but neither of them cared, Loki hissing when Thor pushed up his hips, and then moaning, loudly, when he rolled them.

"I—" he began.

Thor's body was no longer his own, it seemed, thrusting swiftly upwards. Loki was a heavy weight on top of him, lost in pleasure and so beautiful with it; the words died on Thor's lips, along with every dreg of reason and sense.

One of Loki's hands twisted into his hair, pulling him forcefully. Thor tossed his head back, painting, the sharp prickling of pain a momentary distraction from the tight heat around his cock. Their eyes met – and Loki was looking at him the way he never did before, eyes wide open and helpless. Moments later they were glazing over with pleasure, and whatever passed between them was broken.

Still Thor could hardly help himself. His fingers skimmed his brother's flat chest, wondering – what would it feel like, had Loki been wearing a different body. Then he travelled lower, to the well-toned stomach, and imagined it full and swollen.

Could Loki give him a child? If he might want to—

No; he pressed feverish kisses to Loki's breastbone, in silent apology for the turn of his thoughts.

They didn't last long, either of them. Loki came with a startled cry, surprising them both. It took no less than a few movements of Thor's hand around his cock and he was spurting sticky white come all over Thor's chest.

Thor marvelled at the sensation, drinking in the sight of Loki's blissed out face. He kept thrusting up, in pursuit of his own pleasure. His blood hummed with it—he was almost—

Lips were pressing against his own, coaxing them open; and then kissing, fully, Loki's mouth hot and insistent. His tongue prodded Thor's, with none of his brother's coy subtlety. No, there was nothing but desperation in this kiss, in Loki's harsh breathing or his fingers tangled in Thor's hair.

He didn't fight it. He couldn't fight any of it – one last sharp movement and he was coming inside Loki, vision whitening. He said something, Loki's name perhaps – or a confession he had no right to make, spilling out of him with the rush of pleasure.

***

Later, after they had washed and dressed, insofar as it was possible, Loki resumed his reading position. The silence was weighting on Thor, and he barely found the courage to breach it.

"What now?" he asked, still unwilling to look in his brother's direction.

The fire in his blood had died out. It wouldn't rekindle, not for the next week perhaps. That was one thing they wouldn't have to worry about, at least.

"I don't know," Loki said bitterly. "I don't know."

 No, he did not imagine it. Even Loki's voice was—

"Me neither," Thor said.

He prayed for the storm to end. But even once it did, he—he wouldn't know peace. And, Thor was certain of it, neither would Loki.


	12. Grey's Anatomy AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple months into his surgery specialization, Thor comes across someone he did not expect to see again.

The last person he expected to see is standing right there, by the patient’s head, shooting something through the tube in the man’s wrist. Bright green eyes flash momentarily in Thor’s direction – all he can see above the surgical mask – but then he bends down, focused on his task.

The falter in his steps would have betrayed him, but everyone is too busy to pay attention. He rubs the antiseptic into the skin of his palms and nods his head at the nurses, exchanging greetings. Heimdall is already pulling gloves onto his hands, and Sif is right behind Thor, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“All set?” Heimdall asks calmly.

“We’re good to go,” Eir says.

Loki – for it is Loki; Thor has no doubt about that – nods but says nothing, surprisingly. His tall, lanky shape retreats behind Eir, and he checks the monitors thoroughly to make sure patient’s vitals are in order.

Well.

“You seem distracted,” Sif says briskly, while Darcy opens a pack of gloves for her. “Do you want to sit this one out, Odinson? Afraid the blood will make you faint?”

“You wish,” Thor tells her, smugly. What they have between them is not rivalry, not really, but Heimdall still sighs like a long-suffering school teacher.

“All right, you two,” he says. “Pay attention.”

Thor would. He _should_. He’s been assisting Heimdall for a long time now, and feels confident enough to step in as operator next time. All he needs is to keep working as he is now, dependable and confident. Certain that this, the operating room, is exactly where he was always meant to be.

But Loki is watching him. He can feel it, the sharp prick of his gaze like tiny needles on his skin. And, quite helplessly, his eyes find Loki’s, and are caught there.

The first cut goes smoothly. Afterwards it all goes to hell.

It’s Crohn’s, and it’s a mess, and Thor has no time to think about Loki. The patient is stable, even if his intestines aren’t, and so the anaesthesiologists can sit back and let them work in peace. The first time he hears Loki’s voice is a shock, and he nearly drops the forceps he is holding, but it’s just a soft confirmation of a question Eir has asked. Or maybe she is quizzing him, Thor has no idea. But there is blood vessels to worry about, and the damaged tissue they need to remove, and he has his hands full.

Still. _Loki_.

***

Later, in the changing rooms, Thor is barely quick enough to catch a glimpse of Loki’s skin as he changes his shirt. He has filled nicely with muscle since the last time Thor has seen him.

They are alone, and so close they could almost touch. Thor feels the sudden, overwhelming need to break the awkward silence.

“So,” he says. “Anaesthesiology.”

Loki casts him a cold look, his mouth pulled tight in distaste.

“I like them better when they don’t talk,” is what he says.

Thor can’t help a soft smile. “Mother would be proud,” he says. _If you still spoke to her_ , he doesn’t add. And besides, maybe Loki does. Maybe it’s just Thor and Odin who got on his shit list. Maybe her calls don’t go unanswered; maybe she gets to talk to him during Christmas, or birthdays, or any other day of the year. Maybe she’s even seen him. She wouldn’t say.

_Laufeyson,_ is the name Loki uses now. And the look he gives Thor is pure poison.

“I am not here for a friendly chat,” Loki says, very quietly. Then he sneers, and expression on his face turns cruel. “Or for a quick fuck in the shower stall, if that’s what you were after.”

Thor slams the locker door, loud enough to startle them both.

“Shut up,” he says. “Just—shut up.”

Loki leaves, laughing. Thor tries to catch his breath.

So. Same hospital, same operating block. Same fucking operating room. He’s just going to have to live with that.


	13. Ragnarok Speculations

Once the dust settled, Thor could finally look upon his brother’s face and conclude that yes, it was Loki. Impossibly, inexplicably _Loki_. Loki, still sporting bruises on his neck from when Thor had sought a sure grip to smash his body against the nearest column.

“You needn’t have been so violent,” Loki said.

“I wanted to be,” Thor said.

Loki cast him a dark, withering look, but relented once Thor’s fingers curled threateningly around Mjolnir’s handle.

“What of Father?” Thor asked, sweeping the throne room – what remained of it after their fight – with his gaze. A dark, horrible suspicion gripped his heart, but he refused to give it voice.

“He lives,” Loki said calmly. “But the grief was too much for him to bear, I fear. Your leaving pushed him over the edge. Do not blame yourself,” Loki added, in a tone clearly suggesting that Thor should do exactly that. “You could not have known you’d drive your own father to insanity.”

“Where is he now?” Thor asked.

Green light washed over Loki, restoring him to his previous impeccable visage.

“Down on your precious Midgard, among these mortals you so adore,” Loki said. “Did his arrival escape your attention? My my, what a diligent protector you are…”

“I shall look for him, then,” Thor said. “And you will help me.”

The “or else” hung unsaid between them, amongst every other emotion Thor tried to banish from his unsettled mind. Rage, for sure. Sorrow. And, burrowed deep, a touch of fierce joy that was the hardest to repress.

***

The Allfather’s mind was indeed gone when they found him. It took time to win a fragile scrap of his trust, and to place Gungnir in his weathered hands. Under the weight of the gold staff, his grip regained its sureness, his clouded eye clearing once more.

Then he turned his gaze to Loki.

***

This time, Loki did not fare so well. As he unearthed himself from the pile of rubble, Thor landed above him, lighting dancing at his fingertips.

“I never technically lied,” Loki said. He collapsed onto the ground, chest heaving for breath.

“You did not tell me it was _you_ who brought this madness upon our father,” Thor said.

“I also did not tell you it wasn’t me,” Loki said. “See my point?”

A flash of green, and Loki was no more; Thor barely managed to evade the knife at his back, which skidded harmlessly over armour rather than pierce his lung.

Behind him, the real Loki gave him a feral grin and _charged—_

“Enough of this” Odin’s boomed around them, before they could clash once more. “We have more urgent matters at hand.”


End file.
